


Growing Pains

by aerococonut



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fake Dating, M/M, it ends well i promise, parents dont approve of gay son trope, some yelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 06:10:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10679325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerococonut/pseuds/aerococonut
Summary: Adolescence is hard. Especially when you're gay, your parents ignore that fact, you can't find a suitable date, and you end up asking a perfect stranger to a family dinner pretending to be your boyfriend. And that's the easy part.





	Growing Pains

Dropping into the seat next to Kenma, Akaashi Keiji let out a sigh. After rummaging around in his bag, he pulled out a notebook and pen and discarded the bag on the floor. Now he was ready for the most boring class on his schedule, on top of his already bad mood. “Hey,” he mumbled to Kenma.

Kenma glanced up from his game, expression placid. “Today not a good day?”

“You could say that,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Remember the monthly dinner my parents throw? The ones I have no choice but to attend, despite them being awful and embarrassing?” At Kenma's nod, he continued. “Well this time, I apparently _must_ bring a date or I am a failure, a terrible son, etc.” Akaashi rolled his eyes.

Kenma was used to his rants. He'd heard them all before. “You still can't get through to them?” Kenma's expression had shifted to sympathy.

Akaashi mimed holding a gun to his head. “Saying 'I'm gay' repeatedly doesn't get the point across.” He shrugged, dismissing the subject and letting his eyes wander around the room. As usual, they were drawn to a particular student sitting at the front of the room, about fifteen rows in front of Akaashi and too far away for his liking.

Even from here though, you could make out the broad shoulders and defined arms, and the mess of black and white hair falling around his head. Obviously not into fashion, judging by the black print shirt and tight jeans.

Akaashi had seen him around campus; yelling _heys_ to his friends and racing around like he had limitless energy. According to Kenma, his eyes were gold, surprisingly. Not that Akaashi had ever been close enough to see for himself.

“You should ask him to go with you,” Kenma said then, interrupting his thoughts.

“What?” Akaashi blinked, tearing his gaze away to stare at his friend.

Kenma glanced at the student and then down to his game. “Your hot student. Ask him to go to your parents' dinner with you.” He slunk further down into his seat. “It's an excuse to talk to him.”

Akaashi shook his head to clear it, grateful for the teacher's arrival. “It will end badly,” he muttered to Kenma, picking up a pencil. You didn't go up to a stranger and ask them to attend a horrible dinner with your parents.

Kenma ripped a piece of paper out of his notebook and scribbled something down, which he passed to Akaashi without meeting his eyes.

Akaashi read the paper with one eyebrow raised. _Rent a_ _Date_ , the writing announced, followed by a website link. Kenma had written a quick explanation below.

_The website's run by friend of mine and his bff, they 'rent' themselves out as dates in return for a free meal. Maybe it'll be easier than finding someone._

_You should have a look. I think you'll be surprised._

Akaashi stared at him, unsure if this was a joke. Then again, Kenma wasn't the type to play pranks, so this must be genuine. He snorted to himself and tucked the slip of paper away in his notebook. He did need a date, but he wasn't desperate enough to hire a stranger.

No, he had options.

A) He could ask a friend.

B) He could bribe someone into going with him.

C) He could walk into a coffee shop and announce he needed a date.

D) He could ask the hot student.

D wasn't happening. And whatever he decided, he wasn't pathetic enough to _rent a date_.

The rest of his essay writing class passed by in a drag. He took notes absent-mindedly, his thoughts focused more on the upcoming dinner and his annoying family situation. It wasn't that they were _rude_ about his preferences; they just pretended he'd never said anything. As far as they were concerned, their perfectly moulded son absolutely was not gay, and would never dare bring shame on the family name.

Eventually class ended, and Akaashi watched the hot student shove all his stuff in his bag and dash off, like he did at the end of every class. Akaashi said a quiet goodbye to Kenma and left, heading home.

...

 

“I'm home,” he called, slipping off his shoes and swapping them over.

“Welcome home, Keiji,” his mother called from the kitchen.

There was a delicious smell wafting in his direction; rich meaty smells interspersed with the bite of curry. He went to investigate, and found Akaashi Reiha stirring something over the stove.

Her long, glossy black hair was pinned at her nape, her light brown dress covered by a large white apron. She smiled at him and waved him forward. “Keiji dear, have you decided who you're taking to dinner?”

She spoke like he had a bunch of girlfriends to choose from. Akaashi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “No, not yet.” He made himself a snack and busied himself with eating. With a mouthful of food, he couldn't answer questions. Well, that and he was hungry.

Reiha frowned, her lips thinning. “Do hurry, won't you Keiji? At least give her some time to prepare! Nobody liked a man who isn't thoughtful.” She hummed under her breath and sprinkled more salt into the meal she was making.

Akaashi kept his face carefully blank. “Well, my boyfriend doesn't need much time to prepare,” he said, his voice light.

“Oh stop that, Keiji!” Reiha hissed, her knuckles going white around the spoon. “Your play acting is getting ridiculous! Put those thoughts out of your head and focus on finding a girl that will do you credit.”

She meant one who wouldn't ruin the illustrious Akaashi name, probably quiet and thoughtful and wanted a family.

“I'm not acting,” Akaashi sighed, heading towards his bedroom. “Ignore it all you want, but the fact doesn't change. I like guys, and that's it. Just guys. I don't want a girlfriend, and right now I don't really want kids. Why should I live in misery, hating myself, just to make you happy?” He paused at the door, flinging a look over his shoulder.

Reiha narrowed her eyes, holding the spoon like a weapon. “Keiji, enough!” she barked, throwing up her hands. “Bring a girl to this dinner or else.”

“Or else what?” Akaashi couldn't resist asking, cocking a hip and planting a hand there. Winding his mother up probably wasn't the smartest idea, but she grated on his nerves when she was like this.

Reiha smiled, a sickly sweet twist of the lips that didn't reach her eyes. “I'll find one for you.”

Shuddering, Akaashi held up his hands. “Fine, I'll bring someone to dinner,” he muttered, retreating to his room.

“A girl, Keiji!” Reiha called after him.

Yeah right. If she wanted him to bring someone to dinner, he would bring someone to dinner.

Now he just had to find someone.

...

 

A week later and Akaashi was starting to panic. Why was it so hard to find someone to go with him? Kenma was busy and Ennoshita had a date. Akaashi was forced to realise that he was awful at socialisation if he only had a couple of friends. He had acquaintances, but no one he was brave enough to ask.

Akaashi dropped his head on the desk and groaned. He was even considering asking his crush out, but meeting the parents was an awful first date and Akaashi did not want to ruin his chances before they even started. And since his father had rung to say his business meeting had been delayed, and therefore he'd be out of town the night of the dinner, it was going to be worse. Without his father to balance Reiha, the night was going to be a disaster. Reiha would tear his date to shreds.

Thinking about bad dates led his mind to the website Kenma had written down. At this point in time, he'd take anything.

The website was nice, all bright colours and easy to read buttons. Apparently it had recently undergone a remodel, thanks to a newer 'date' of the site. Akaashi amused himself reading through their profiles. Each 'date' gave you a difference experience based on how bad you wanted your date to be.

It wasn't until Akaashi clicked the profile labelled 'Bokuto Koutarou' that his jaw dropped. _Holy shit._

It was the student from his essay writing class. The picture of him was especially appealing; he wore a wide smile and the photo had captured a glint in his eyes – they _were_ gold! – and his black and white hair was spiked up into tufts, resembling a horned owl. The plain black shirt he wore was tight enough to show off his muscles, enough to have Akaashi drooling.

His personality description stated that he was energetic, loved owls and volleyball (at least Akaashi knew where he got those muscles from now), and was happy to have a fun date.

Well, he'd been considering inviting the hot guy anyway, and supposedly Bokuto was used to bad dinner situations, so hopefully that meant he'd be alright with Reiha.

His hand hovered over the confirmation button, options running through his mind. There was still time to find someone else. But unless he manned up and asked out Bokuto for real, this was the closest he'd get to his crush, and still have someone to take along.

Akaashi took a deep breath and confirmed the date.

One way or another, he was committed now.

It didn't take long to receive an email back from Bokuto, asking him to meet up at the campus coffee store tomorrow to organise their stories. Akaashi agreed to meet at nine and tried to swallow the anxiety rearing its head.

So what if he'd just invited the guy he had a crush on to an awkward, horrible family dinner? Maybe he should have kept it low key, just asked Bokuto to be slightly annoying but not enough to get Akaashi thrown out of the house. Except this had been a long time coming, and he was tired of dealing with them and their expectations for him. He was never going to conform to their standards.

...

 

Arriving twenty minutes early to the café, Akaashi forced himself to take a couple of breaths in an attempt to calm down. It was just a business meeting with a cute guy. It wasn't even a date. He shouldn't have sweaty palms and a racing heart and feel like he was about to throw up.

He gave his order to the cashier and retreated to the side. With coffee now in hand, he snagged a table against a window, giving him a view of people walking past.

The café itself was simple, with dark wooden floors and cream walls. Pictures of swirls and coffee beans hung around, giving the whole place the appearance of latte art. The seats were comfortable, with cushions and wooden backs, good for students with terrible posture. Akaashi sat up straight at the thought.

He came here so often it was practically a second home. Being a college student, he practically lived off caffeine, and the coffee here was better than anywhere else he'd found.

As his watch edged closer to the designated meeting time, the anticipation at seeing Bokuto face to face filled his stomach with butterflies. Akaashi tried to reason with himself, remembering this was just a friendly hello as far as Bokuto was concerned.

It was all well and good to tell himself that, but watching Bokuto stride into the café, golden eyes flickering over the room with predatory intent, threw his calm demeanour out the window.

He looked even better in person. Akaashi's mouth went dry, and he took a sip of coffee in the hope it would help.

Those golden eyes landed on him, going wide when he spotted Akaashi. A smile spread across his face, and he walked to the edge of Akaashi's table. “Hey hey hey! Akaashi Keiji, right?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

Akaashi nodded and gestured for him to sit down. “Nice to meet you, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto dropped into the chair opposite him and beamed. “It's nice to meet _you!_ You're gorgeous, holy hell what are you doing asking _me_ for fake dates? _Anyone_ would be falling over themselves to go out with you.” Bokuto stared at him.

Akaashi felt his face flame at the impulsive comments. And maybe the way Bokuto was staring at him. “Thank you, Bokuto-san,” he murmured, ducking his head. It was one thing to be attracted from afar, another to have said crush announcing how pretty you are to the entire café. Still, they didn't know each other, and this was business. “So, what do I need to know about Saturday night?” he asked, hoping to draw Bokuto's attention away from his face. His gaze was intense.

Bokuto blinked and grinned. “Ah right, Saturday at seven wasn't it?” He spread his hands. “Basically, it's whatever you want it to be. I can be terrible or overly lovey-dovey or whatever! Just tell me how bad you want this date to be and I'll make it happen.” He jabbed a thumb into his chest in emphasis.

Unable to stop the smile tilting his lips up, Akaashi leaned forward. “Well,” he stopped then, biting his lip. Was Bokuto okay with a male date? He hadn't said anything, but maybe there were rules? “I'm...I'm gay,” he admitted, not meeting Bokuto's gaze. “Only my parents – and particularly my mother – refused to acknowledge it. They just pretend it's a phase or I'm acting out.” He glanced up to gauge Bokuto's reaction.

Bokuto's eyes were soft, but he didn't interrupt. Maybe he heard stories like this often.

“Therefore,” Akaashi continued, “I was hoping you could come with me to this dreadful monthly family dinner as my boyfriend and help me prove that I'm serious. It might take a public display to ram home the point.”

“Okay, can do!” Bokuto announced, clapping his hands together. “Did you have any particular meeting stories you wanted? We met in a sex shop, I walked in on you and your boyfriend at the time, or you met me on a dating website?”

Akaashi couldn't help chuckling. Were those normal options? “I didn't have anything in mind, no,” he answered, shaking his head. “Maybe keep it simple though?”

Bokuto clicked his tongue. “I gotcha.” He tapped a finger to his chin. “What about saying we met in a coffee shop? It's technically true. We've been dating for...two months?” he glanced at Akaashi, waiting for confirmation. “Alright, so two months and so far we've been to the movies, you've come over to study a few times, and we like going for lunch at this cute restaurant down the road from my place. Sound good?”

If this had been left in Akaashi's hands, he'd still be trying to think of something. “Sure. You're very good at this.”

Bokuto's face lit up. “Well, I've had lots of practice,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What about my appearance? And should I be late?”

“Definitely late,” Akaashi agreed, tapping his fingers on the side of his cup. “Fifteen minutes should be enough. As for appearance,” he trailed off, looking Bokuto up and down. So what if he was enjoying the view. “Maybe something casual, since it's supposed to be a fancy dinner. Wear your owl hair,” he chuckled. He rather liked Bokuto with his hair spiked. It suited him.

“I can do that,” Bokuto said, puffing out his chest. “I know just the ugly plaid shirt and trusty jeans to wear. I'll even go for a leather jacket,” he decided.

Akaashi covered his mouth with a hand to hide another smile. “I'm going to be disowned and kicked out of the house.” He tried to inject humour into his words, but he was starting to fear the possibility.

Bokuto's eyes went wide, all joy wiped off his face. “What? No, Akaashi, I can't let that happen, that's _awful_! We can cancel right now.” He stood up, fully ready to walk out.

“No, Bokuto-san!” Akaashi reached over and grabbed his wrist, tugging him back down. “I was kidding!” _Sort of_. “Please sit down.”

Hi did so, white brows furrowed. “Are you sure?” His boundless energy of before was gone, leaving Bokuto with drooped shoulders and a pout. “I don't want you to be hurt, Akaashi.”

“I promise I'll be fine,” Akaashi told him, hoping the words were true. “And even if the worst happened, I'd survive. Stay with a friend until I could get a job and rent a place.” He hoped. Ideally, he should just suck it up and stay with his parents, but the constant _need_ to be perfect, to uphold the family name while denying who he was _drained_ him, slowly destroying him inside. He couldn't do it any more. This dinner might be his breaking point.

Bokuto perked back up. “You could stay with me!” he announced, bright smile in place. “Me and Kuroo's third room mate just moved out, so we have a spare bedroom at the moment. It's close to campus and I wasn't lying about the cute café. We'd be quiet, so you could study in peace.” He grinned at Akaashi, seemingly delighted by the proposition.

Akaashi raised an eyebrow. Did he always invite strangers into his life this cheerfully? Surely it had to backfire. “I'll keep that in mind, thank you Bokuto-san.”

“Okay! So late, bad clothes, we have our stories.” Bokuto hummed and drummed his fingers on the table. “Anything else you want? Any questions? Should I insult your parents or spill food? I _am_ kind of clumsy,” he admitted, winking, “or I could be overly affectionate. Drape myself over your shoulders, call you lots of dumb pet names. Basically be over the top!”

Akaashi _really_ wanted to say yes to the last one. _This isn't real_ , he reminded himself. “If you want to be clumsy, go for it. I won't say no to displays of affection.” He shrugged and glanced at Bokuto. “Maybe...try not to insult them? You aren't a mean person, I can tell. Whereas clumsy and affectionate are endearing traits.”

Bokuto stared at him, mouth open. “Wow, Akaashi! That might be the nicest thing anyone's ever said about me.” He tapped his fingers together.

Akaashi was amazed to see a slight flush rise up Bokuto's neck. “There's nothing wrong with being clumsy. It's not something you can really help,” he reassured. Were people cruel to Bokuto about that?

“How do you know I'm not a mean person?” Bokuto kept watching him, eyes lidded. “We've only just met.”

How did he know? Akaashi wondered. There was just something about Bokuto that spoke of kindness. Despite his large frame, he was cheerful and energetic, and obviously willing to go out of his way to help people. Like the fake dating, or offering Akaashi a place to stay if he needed it. Those weren't things done by someone who didn't _care_. “I guess...I trust you,” he said, lifting a shoulder. “I figured since you haven't murdered anyone on these dates that you're a trustworthy kind of person.”

Bokuto scrunched his face up. “Uwahh! Akaashi that's so nice!” he wailed.

Wait, was he _crying_? Akaashi held out a hand, wanting to take back whatever stupid thing he'd said that had triggered that reaction. “Bokuto-san please –”

Bokuto jumped up and threw his arms around Akaashi. “Be my friend, Akaashi!” he sniffed into Akaashi's shoulder. “You're so nice and cool!”

Akaashi patted his shoulder awkwardly, prying Bokuto's arm from around his neck. “Of course, Bokuto-san. Now if you could stop making a scene and let us finish setting up this date I'd be most grateful.”

With a radiant smile, Bokuto sat back down and rested his chin on his palms, elbows on the table. “Okay, what else?” he asked, apparently back to normal. “Was there anything else?”

Akaashi couldn't think of anything off the top of his head, but then he wasn't good at improvising. “I'm not sure.”

Bokuto hummed and pulled out his phone. “Here, let's swap numbers. If you think of anything else, you can text me.” He handed Akaashi the phone, a new contact opened already.

Entering the details, Akaashi tried not to freak out about how he just got Bokuto's number. “Thank you,” he answered, keeping his voice calm even if he wasn't.

Bokuto sent him a text to pass on his contact details, glancing at his screen and gasping. “Oh shit, I'm gonna be late for practice!” He jumped to his feet. “Sorry Akaashi, gotta run! It was nice to meet you, and I'll see you on Saturday. Have a great day!” He waved and raced off, narrowly avoiding a collision with another customer. He apologised and dashed away.

Akaashi watched in amusement, idly running his fingers over the buttons of his phone. Not only was his crush hot, he was a genuinely nice person.

Akaashi was so screwed.

...

 

Shifting his weight back and forth, Akaashi smoothed a hand over his dinner jacket, fixing imaginary creases. He hated the formal wear, but his mother always insisted he be 'presentable' when going to these dinners. Underneath the jacket he was wearing a plan white button down shirt, simple black slacks and polished dress shoes. All the black made his skin look too pale, he thought privately. No doubt he should have worn a green tie to play up his eyes or something, but whatever.

He checked his watch once again, noting Bokuto was now sixteen minutes late. Well, that was good, that's what he wanted. He wasn't chewing his lip and wondering if he'd been stood up, no never.

Bokuto came into view then, jogging around the corner and looking at his phone. He glanced up and saw Akaashi. “Hey hey hey! I found you. I was beginning to think I'd gotten lost.” He beamed and looked Akaashi up and down. “Wow, you look fantastic!”

Akaashi snorted, hiding his pleasure at the compliment. “And you look very casual,” he replied.

Sure enough, Bokuto had gone with the faded black jeans. His shirt was dark grey, a half-mechanical owl printed on it with the words 'Owl be back' written underneath. Some kind of reference, perhaps? As promised, he'd worn the black leather jacket, his hair spiked up into its unusual style. “Like it?” Bokuto grinned, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “Now come on date, shall we go meet your parents?”

Akaashi opened the door. “It's just my mother, actually. My father's out of town on business, so you only have to survive one parent's interrogation.”

“Great!” Bokuto chirped.

“Not quite. She's worse on her own,” Akaashi mumbled.

They walked inside, Akaashi enjoying the warmth of Bokuto's arm around his shoulders. The weather had been cool lately, much to his annoyance.

Inside the restaurant was warmer; the braziers on the wall throwing off heat. As much as he hated the dinners, Akaashi had to admit he liked the restaurant's décor. The white walls had lines of red running around the top, thick red curtains hanging in the wall to add some colour. The floor was covered in deep red carpet, odd geometric patterns picked out in white. The tables were round, giving off the illusion of equality and the chairs were plush with high backs.

Akaashi gave his name at the door and they were escorted to the table.

Akaashi Reiha only glanced briefly at Bokuto before her sharp eyes gaze was centred on Akaashi. “Keiji dear, so nice of you to finally arrive.” She stood up and bowed her head.

Akaashi and Bokuto sat down, Akaashi jerking a thumb at Bokuto. “Sorry, had to wait for this guy.”

Bokuto laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm sorry! I got lost. Not used to these posh places.” He grinned at Reiha and gave her a thumbs up. “But it's nice here! Thanks for inviting me.”

Akaashi choked back a laugh at the expression on his mother's face.

Reiha's polite smile froze on her painted lips. She swept an errant piece of hair back into its neatly pinned style. “And who's this, Keiji?” she asked, now taking in Bokuto's less than polished appearance with a curled lip.

“You asked me to bring someone, Mother. So I brought my most important person.” Akaashi linked his fingers with Bokuto's and held their hands up. “This is Bokuto Koutarou. My boyfriend.” He smiled wide, knowing it would annoy her.

“Hey hey hey! It's nice to meet you.” Bokuto nodded to her. “You're just as pretty as Keiji! Now I know where he gets his good looks from.”

Akaashi knew he took after his mother; they had the same black hair and green eyes, though his curls came from his father. It was a good comment from Bokuto; Reiha couldn't argue without spiting herself.

Reiha's outfit was designed to play up those features. Her emerald green dress reflected her eyes, the subtle eyeshadow making them seem larger. The dress hugged her figure, the short sleeves clinging to her shoulders and the hint of diamantés at the neckline adding a touch of elegance.

The only thing that ruined it was the way her lips turned down. If there was one thing Reiha wouldn't do though, it was be rude. She made an effort to smile. “Thank you for coming, Bokuto was it? It's a pleasure to meet my son's friends.” There was a delicate emphasis on the last word.

“Isn't a boyfriend basically a friend with benefits anyway?” Bokuto mused, helping himself to a bread roll from the basket on the table.

Akaashi bit the inside of his cheek. “Now now,” he teased, stealing Bokuto's roll and shoving it in his mouth. After all, it wasn't fair to let Bokuto be the centre of attention all the time.

“Hey, that was mine!” Bokuto yelled, successfully drawing the attention of the whole restaurant.

Reiha's jaw dropped. She picked herself up and hastily grabbed the basket. “Here, Bokuto-kun. Have another roll,” she offered, hoping to distract him.

“Okay!” Bokuto grabbed two, his good mood restored. “I love bread rolls,” he told nobody in particular.

They were saved having to respond by the arrival of their waiter, asking if they were ready to order. Reiha delivered her order in precise words, gesturing for Akaashi to go next. He picked a couple of things since he was hungry, and something good had to happen out of this night.

Bokuto took ten minutes to order, frowning and asking the waiter what was in everything and whether he could have twice as much sauce. Eventually he picked something and dropped his menu on the table with a thump.

Akaashi hid a smile at his antics. His mother looked livid, though to outsiders she probably looked mildly uncomfortable.

Reiha took a breath, one hand toying with the silver bracelet on her wrist. “So, Keiji, why don't you tell me how you and Bokuto-kun met.” She dropped her hands in her lap and met his gaze.

Ahh, she was trying to be a good parent. Good thing he and Bokuto had worked this out. “It was a coffee shop, actually,” Akaashi began, flicking a quick glance at Bokuto to confirm.

“That's right!” Bokuto agreed, spitting crumbs over the table. “I spilled my drink over him!”

Akaashi chuckled. It was a nice touch. “You ruined one of my favourite shirts,” he sighed, playing along.

Bokuto shrugged, his expression going sly. “That's okay, I like you better without your shirts on, anyway.”

Reiha cleared her throat to interrupt, pouring a glass of water. “What an...interesting meeting.” She studied Akaashi's face, her green eyes flinty.

“I know, right?” Bokuto slammed a hand on the table. “You know, he asked _me_ out. Like here I am, apologising for being such a clumsy moron and Keiji's all 'Seeing as how you owe me a drink, why don't we meet up at the corner café tomorrow?'. How fucking smooth is that?” He flung his hands in the air.

Reiha flinched at the language, tutting under her breath and spearing Akaashi with a glare. “Fascinating,” she told Bokuto, though her gaze never left Akaashi. “I never would have imagined you to be so bold, Keiji.”

Akaashi was starting to feel like a butterfly pinned to a board under the weight of that stare. Reiha couldn't imagine him being so bold because she had no idea who he really was and what he was like. “That's right. Best decision I ever made,” he said, grabbing Bokuto's hand. “Maybe I should be that bold more often.” He smirked. Bringing a guy to dinner despite Reiha's express wishes was him being bold, and she knew it.

Bokuto sighed dreamily and rested his chin in his free hand. “I'm so happy to have met you.” He stared at Akaashi, eyes lidded. “I'm so lucky.”

Despite knowing that Bokuto was just acting, Akaashi felt his face go red. “I think I'm the lucky one, having a boyfriend who cares so much about me and loves me the way I am.”

Bokuto pressed kisses along his knuckles, the effectiveness somewhat ruined by the huge smile he was wearing.

Their constant hand-holding must be getting on his mother's nerves; her lips tightened every time she looked at their joined hands. Good. He'd keep doing it then.

Dinner arrived quickly; the food looking incredible in neat spreads and carefully arranged plates. Akaashi eyed his meal with real pleasure. Say what you would about these dinners, at least the food was top quality. He quickly thanked for the food and dug in.

Next to him, Bokuto was shovelling food in as fast as he could. He went overboard and choked, one hand coming up to beat his chest. After a few moments he could talk again, clapping his hands together and apologising profusely (at high volume) for making a mess. His flailing hand motions knocked his plate, sending a wave of sauce over the side and staining the white tablecloth.

It was a masterful 'accident', Akaashi had to admit. His mother was eyeing Bokuto with distaste, her nose threatening to crinkle. Guess she wasn't too fond of his date then. What a shame. Akaashi rather liked him.

There was a short reprieve from further shenanigans as Bokuto ate the rest of his food (with relish). By the end of it, he'd managed to spill pasta on the floor, get sauce all over his face, and one particularly enthusiastic hand gesture had sent a glass of water flying.

Akaashi was having the time of his life. To think, he'd been missing out on this rebellious phase! Still, he had his own part to play. Raising a napkin he dabbed at Bokuto's face, gently wiping off the sauce. He used a finger to swipe off a tiny part around Bokuto's lips, before he popped it in his mouth. “Delicious,” he murmured.

Bokuto grinned at him. “It was so good!” he agreed, shoving his bowl to the side and reaching for another bread roll.

Reiha finished her meal and stood up. “Please excuse me for a moment.” She nodded to them and headed in the direction of the bathroom.

Akaashi heaved a sigh and slid down in his seat. “How are you holding up?” he asked, tilting his head to look at Bokuto.

“This is fun,” Bokuto laughed, though his smile had slipped. “But are you sure you want to keep this up? I mean she looks kind of pissed off at you. Are you sure you're not going to wreck your family life because of me?” He looked so earnest, white brows low over his eyes.

Snorting, Akaashi dragged himself back upright. “I don't care what happens. This has been the best night I've had in a long time, and it's because I'm having fun,” he admitted, ducking his head. His voice went serious. “Every other time, it's always the same. They tell me to find a girlfriend, I tell them I'm gay, they ignore me.” He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, his curls tumbling in all directions. “I just thought if I did something this flamboyant, it might get the point across. Some over the top gesture!” He flicked his hands in the air to demonstrate.

“Like what?” Bokuto asked, drumming his fingers on the tabletop and jiggling his legs. He wasn't too bored, was he?

“I don't know,” Akaashi sighed. He wasn't an exciting person. Coming up with interesting things wasn't his forte. He had a routine, and he stuck to it.

“We could always tell her we're getting married!” Bokuto said excitedly, just as Reiha returned to the table.

She stared at them, her hands gripping the top of the chair in a white knuckled grip. “You're what?” she asked, voice quiet. The kind of dangerous calm the preceded a storm.

Akaashi stood up and grabbed Bokuto's hand. May as well go all the way. “Well, we weren't going to tell you for a while – after all, who proposes after only a few months – but now you know.” He felt kind of sick, his stomach roiling at the look on her face. But if it worked...

Bokuto leaned into him. He'd stood up as well, both hands gripping Akaashi's between warm palms. “She deserves to know, and you wouldn't be happy hiding it,” Bokuto said sagely, nodding his head.

Reiha lost her composure. “Akaashi Keiji! Is this your idea of a joke? Some sort of desperate bid for attention?” She tucked her bag under one arm and pointed at the door with the other. “Outside. Now.”

Technically, it _was_ a bid for attention, but not in the way she meant it. Akaashi shrugged and he and Bokuto walked towards the door, Bokuto waving at all the people staring at them. “You're all invited to the wedding!” he yelled as they walked out.

Akaashi stood on the step outside and started laughing. “That was perfect.”

“That was humiliating!” Reiha screeched, storming out after them, her face mottled. “You've been nothing but disrespectful all night! And this oaf here.” she jabbed a finger at Bokuto, “could be confused with a baboon! I didn't think it was possible for someone to be that clumsy!”

Akaashi knocked her hand away. “Hey,” he warned. While yelling at him was fine, Bokuto was only here because Akaashi had asked him. He didn't deserve to be yelled at.

Bokuto grinned at her, eyes bright. “Wait, mother-to-be! We haven't had enough displays of affection!” With that, he turned to Akaashi, his grin turning devious. He clasped Akaashi's face between his palms and leaned in close. Hovering a breath away from his lips, Bokuto waited for him to make a decision.

Akaashi didn't think twice, closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to Bokuto's. The kiss was soft, hesitant, barely a brush of their lips. Akaashi opened his mouth, silently demanding more. Whether it was just for show or because he really wanted this, Akaashi would never admit it out loud.

Bokuto pulled away, running his tongue over his bottom lip and watching Akaashi from under his lashes. “That's better,” he said, winking at Reiha. “So what do you think? Should we have a spring wedding? You can help me plan!”

Reiha grabbed Akaashi's arm and tugged him away. “We're leaving. Right now.” She didn't wait for a response, towing Akaashi along after her.

Akaashi sent Bokuto a look saying everything would be alright, letting himself be dragged off.

“Bye Keiji! I'll see you later,” Bokuto cheered, waving his hands above his head. “Think of me tonight!” He bowed with a flourish and jogged off.

Reiha slowed now that Bokuto was gone and turned back to glare at Akaashi. “We'll discuss this at home,” she gritted out. She hailed a taxi and shoved him inside. 

The ride home was stiff and silent, compounded by Reiha's crossed arms and Akaashi staring out the window. What else was there to say?

“I am very disappointed in you, Keiji,” Reiha said quietly, her gaze trained on the opposite window.

“I'm disappointed in you,” Akaashi returned. “You're supposed to be my parents, and all you do is ignore parts of me you don't like.” He faced her then, taking in her thinned lips and frown lines. “I am gay, Mother. Nothing you say or do will change that. You can't take me apart and put me back together because I don't fit your mould of the perfect son.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I've done everything you ever wanted of me. Why can't you just accept me the way I am?”

Reiha didn't answer, still avoiding his gaze. Pretending she hadn't heard anything, just like she always did.

Akaashi leaned his head against the window and watched the scenery go past without seeing it. His phone buzzed in his pocket, jolting him out of his misery. It was a text from Bokuto, asking if he was okay. He sent a quick text back, saying they were on the way home and he'd keep Bokuto posted.

After an age, the taxi pulled up at the Akaashi residence. Akaashi and his mother walked inside, the air charged with expectant tension. Reiha hadn't exploded in the car, no doubt trying to preserve her dignity in front of the taxi driver.

She was calm until they'd changed their shoes, before she was whirling around and unleashing her pent up rage. “Akaashi Keiji!” she screeched, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I am appalled and disgusted by your behaviour! How _dare_ you make a fool out of us! Do you have any idea how badly this reflects on us, as a family? What if someone recorded the scene you and your–” she broke off, unable to say fiancé, “you and Bokuto pulled!”

“We might become Youtube famous,” Akaashi said in a bland tone. He'd take any victory at this point.

“I thought you were serious about your future!” Reiha shrieked, throwing her hands in the air. “All your studies, your hard work, being top of the class! You're throwing it all away to _gallivant_ around with another boy! _Engaged_ ,” she spat the last word, her cheeks an angry red. “Keiji, please. Rethink this. Don't throw your life away due to youthful silliness.”

Akaashi crossed his arms and stared at her. “My being gay won't go away, you know that, right? I like guys, and only guys. End of story. If I want to screw around with guys, I will.”

Reiha rubbed her temples and drew in a deep breath. “Your father and I have sacrificed too much to get to where we are to put up with such blatant disrespect. You have one chance to tell me this is all some stupid, misguided play for attention Keiji, or you're out.”

“Out where?” he inquired coolly. He knew the passive aggressive attitude would annoy her.

Reiha stopped, her eyes going cold. “Anywhere that isn't this house,” she hissed. “No son of ours would dishonour our family.”

Akaashi understood, suddenly feeling a hundred years old. He was being kicked out. Disowned.

No, not quite. He was being given the _choice;_ toe the line and be the dutiful son, or be himself and be cut adrift.

So be it.

Akaashi bowed to her. “In that case, I'll get out of your hair. I won't live with people who hate parts of me.” He turned on his heel and retreated into his bedroom, ignoring the choking gasps from behind him. She'd delivered the ultimatum; now she had to realise the consequences.

Akaashi grabbed his phone and rung Bokuto. He felt horrible begging for favours, but he had nowhere else to go. “Hey Bokuto-san,” he sighed, sitting on the end of the bed. “Is it alright if I stay over?” He forced back the lump in his throat. He would not cry here!

“Of course, Akaashi!” Bokuto practically yelled into the phone. “Please come over! I'll text you the address. Bring anything you want, although we have furniture and food and stuff so maybe just important things and some clothes.”

Akaashi promised he would and hung up. From there he threw a couple of changes of clothes into a bag and shoved his textbooks on top. He didn't have a lot of stuff to begin with, and nothing he couldn't bear living without. Whatever was left could stay.

He walked out the door without looking back.

…

 

Bokuto's apartment wasn't too far from campus; about a half-hour's walk from Akaashi's house. He didn't mind the walk, the peace and quiet acted like a balm for his turbulent feelings. His body felt heavy, his mind replaying the events over and over again. Should he have stayed? Should he have tried harder to convince her that there was nothing wrong with him? What if he'd phrased it differently? Those thoughts plagued him, and he wondered once again if there was something wrong with him. Why couldn't he just be normal?

He shook his head and knocked on Bokuto's door.

Bokuto threw open the door, eyes wide and two-toned hair falling around his face. “Akaashi!” he wailed, grabbing Akaashi's arm and dragging him inside. “I can't believe they kicked you out!” He faced Akaashi, downcast and pouting. “I'm so sorry, I didn't want this to happen.”

“Don't worry about it, Bokuto-san. It isn't your fault at all,” Akaashi reassured him, patting his arm. “I chose to go through with our plan even though I knew the potential consequences. Besides,” he shrugged, “it was bound to happen sooner or later. We can't see eye to eye, and as long as they fail to accept me as I am I'm better off elsewhere.”

Bokuto nodded solemnly, shifting his weight back and forth. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, shoulders hunched.

“You've already done so much for me.” Akaashi didn't like the despondent look on his face. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here.”

“It's fine, Akaashi!” Bokuto waved him off. “Now here, I'll give you a quick tour and show you where you'll be staying. You look ready to pass out,” he said sympathetically.

“I'm exhausted,” Akaashi admitted. “Tonight has been...very long. I just hope it'll be better in the morning.”

Bokuto clapped a hand on his shoulder. “It will! Tomorrow is the beginning of your new look on life, Akaashi! You're a free man!”

Akaashi managed a smile. “Maybe you're right, Bokuto-san.” He buried his face in his hands, fighting back tears. He'd managed not to cry so far, but Bokuto's overwhelming kindness tipped him over the edge. Why was he so _good?_

Bokuto drew him into a hug. “Hey, it's gonna be okay,” he murmured, rubbing circles on Akaashi's back.

Akaashi finally let himself cry. For his parents, for himself, for the unknown. It was too much. He was supposed to be an adult, and yet he'd never felt like more of a kid.

Bokuto held him until he stopped sobbing, patting his shoulder and running a hand through his hair. “Are you gonna be alright?”

Nodding, Akaashi drew away and wiped his eyes. “Yes. I'm sorry about that I just–”

Bokuto waved a hand. “Don't worry about it. You've had a long day. Now why don't you go have a shower and head to bed. Things will be better in the morning.”

...

 

Two months later, Akaashi woke up to the scent of something delicious wafting in from the kitchen. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, Bokuto liked to cook and was actually good at it. Akaashi sat up and stretched his arms above his head, wincing when his spine popped. As much as he loved staying in bed, the lure of food was too powerful.

He'd had to stay overtime at his job last night, and usually recovered by staying in bed until midday. Bokuto, being the attention-seeking boyfriend that he was, had figured out that food was Akaashi's primary motivator and kept making delicious things at ten o'clock in an effort to draw him out of bed.

Honestly, Akaashi wasn't complaining. He sucked at cooking and he was used to running on no sleep. Balancing college work with his part time job was hard, but he was surviving. At least now he could pay rent, making up for the month he'd lived here without paying anything.

Bokuto had insisted he stay. The day after the dinner with Akaashi's mother, Bokuto had invited him out for lunch, stating his new lease on life should start with something nice. Akaashi had been enjoying himself so much he'd blurted out about his crush on Bokuto from the one class they shared. Bokuto had laughed so hard he'd fallen off his chair. After that, they'd officially started dating.

Bokuto's words had proved true; things had gotten better for him. He had a boyfriend he adored (and who adored him right back), a job, and he was still keeping good grades in his course. The only thing he didn't have was contact with his parents. All in all, a decent trade-off as far as he was concerned.

“Morning Keiji,” Bokuto chirped, seeing him walk into the kitchen. “I'm making pancakes!”

“I love you,” Akaashi mumbled, holding out his hands for a plate. Instead he got a quick kiss on the cheek.

Bokuto laughed and pressed a bowl into his hands. “Here you go.”

“These smell so good,” he moaned, eyeing the stack of light, fluffy pancakes filled with blueberries and drowning in syrup. Akaashi's mouth was watering.

Bokuto joined him at the table, and the pancakes disappeared in record time. “Not bad!” Bokuto said, patting his stomach.

Akaashi's phone buzzed, startling them both. Akaashi eyes the name on the display, sucking in a breath. “It's my mother,” he told Bokuto, reluctantly answering the phone.

The conversation wasn't long, just enough to make his mouth fall open and rethink everything. Akaashi hung up feeling like he'd been hit by a truck. “I did not see that coming,” he muttered, resting his head on the table. “Apparently my parents want to 'try again'. Mother said they'd talked it over and they want to apologise for throwing me out. They've invited us to dinner as a...reconciliation attempt.” He was still having trouble processing it.

Bokuto beamed at him. “That's great! I know you've been upset with your parents, and here's your chance to fix things!” He pulled Akaashi into a hug. “I'm so happy for you!”

Akaashi refused to let himself hope. “It might still end badly. After all, Mother still thinks we're engaged, remember?”

Bokuto frowned at him. “Oh yeah. You know,” he mused, rubbing his jaw, “we're technically not engaged since I never proposed.”

“Not yet, anyway,” Akaashi said, just to watch Bokuto's eyes widen. “I'm kidding. We're not ready for that.”

“Hell no!” Bokuto ran his hands down his face. “Adulting is hard! I'm not ready for a family.”

“Not yet,” Akaashi murmured. But maybe down the line...

He laughed at the face Bokuto pulled. He liked having this; the warm home to come back to, the man who loved him.

Being an adult _was_ hard, but he wasn't doing too badly.

**Author's Note:**

> This...changed quite a bit from the first draft but I think it's more complete now. Another fic I wrote last year sometime and never submitted. Or, my take on the fake dating trope you can pry from my cold dead hands.


End file.
